He sent two men on ahead, and then joined them. The rest crowded through. There were no hitches until it got to the last men, two of whom fell, one killed outright, the other wounded.
"I say, get them to fire a round!" shouted Guillaumin.
I gave the order for a volley. It was distinctly thin, and besides that, his men, having cleared the obstacle, stupidly inclined to the left. We were firing straight into their backs. I had some difficulty in getting my men to cease firing.
Bouillon said to me:
"The lucky chaps!"
"Why?"
"To have gone through first!"
They had left two dead men behind them, whose bodies half filled up the gap.
Our turn now.
I felt strangely detached. I watched myself get up and heard myself telling off the three men nearest to me: